The Mirror Front
by Sila-chan
Summary: What if it wasn't Lucius Malfoy that was evil, but Narcissa? How would Draco be affected?
1. The Mirror Front

The Mirror Front  
  
SUMMARY: What if it wasn't Lucius that was evil...but Narcissa?  
  
Draco hated home. He hated it and everything it stood for. He briefly remembered talking to Goyle, in a strange moment of companionship.  
"So, are you going home these holidays, Malfoy?"  
"Home?" He had snorted. "I am going back to my house, if that's what you mean." He had looked away, not wanting him to hear as he muttered that he had no home. He had the sneaking suspicion that Greggory knew what he had said anway.  
  
And now he was on the way back to the Manor. He was off that stupid, stinking train with it's stupid, stinking incompetent students...and on the way back to his stupid, stinking house. He sighed and shook off that train of thought. Wrong yet again, Malfoy. He was just annoyed because that bumbling excuse for an idiot Colin Creevey had tipped pumpkin juice on him by accident in the hallway. Stupid, simpleton Creevey, Potter worshipper extraordinaire. He had nearly wet his pants when he looked up at who he had spilt the juice on. Draco smirked, squirming in the leather seat of the limousine.   
Sighing, he looked out of the darkly tinted, almost black windows.   
  
"Wave bye-bye Draco...you won't get to Hogwarts for six-weeks." The school annoyed him. He had no real friends, other than Pansy. Crabbe and Goyle, much as he liked them, were useless now he could take care of himself. He was no longer than snivelling, snot-faced brat he had been in the first year, he thought, rolling his eyes. If he saw his younger self now, he would attempt Avada Kedrava almost instantaneously. How did everybody put up with him? No wonder he had next to no friends now. And he had no respect. Everybody just put up with him because they were scared of his mother. He snarled and cursed, throwing his scrunched up robe across the other side of the limo. The driver looked up calmly, winding the partition down.  
"Did you say something, Master Draco?"  
"I said nothing, Jenkinson. Keep driving."   
  
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Eventually they were there. Draco watched sulkily as they rolled up the long driveway, the gates opening as they passed the carefully manicured lawns. It was like something out of a movie, he thought with disgust. If it hadn't been for mother, his father and himself would have been quite happy in a two-storey apartment somewhere. His mother was a leech. She had married his father purely for the money. She had destroyed the Malfoy name. She was a scheming, manipulative, self-involved bitch. Hence the name Narcissa.   
Draco fondly remembered the day he had found out the meaning of her name. He had been reading through his school books when his father had knocked gently on the door.  
"Draco." He had said, entering with that sad and wizened smile on his face.  
"I brought you something." He had sat on the bed as Draco had opened the storybook to the page marked. His first thought was that he was a little old for fairytales, but then when he began reading he couldn't stop laughing. It was some Greek tale about a guy called Narcissus who was totally in love with himself, and eventually died because he couldn't love another, wouldn't eat or sleep because he simply couldn't drag himself away from his reflection. His father had watched him warmly, that smile and those saddened eyes. He loathed that look, it made him look weak, and Malfoy family members were not weak. But his thoughts crumbled as he remembered his family line. All the men were extremely intelligent, and in doing so sought out wives of high intelligence...which was usually their undoing, when the overly-intelligent wife thought of some scheme to ruin them for their money. It was actually a wonder the Malfoy line was still present, and that Draco even existed today. And he felt it. He felt that same hunger for intelligence, that raw passion that he had. And he knew who had it.  
"Master Draco?" Jenkinson was holding the door open, and it was apparent he had been doing so for quite some time now.  
"Thank you Jenkinson." He stepped out and sauntered up the grand steps of the mansion.  
  
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"Draco! What a pleasant surprise." His father looked up from his work. He was hunched over his work, and looked tired and exhausted. But happy nonetheless. Draco glanced around the dimly lit room and sighed, crossing over to the windows to open the curtains.  
"Hello Father. Did Mother not tell you I was coming?"  
"What a clever idea Draco, you really are such a clever boy." His father ignored the question, referring instead to the flood of light Draco had allowed into the room.  
"Thank you Father." He drawled lightly.   
"I've almost got it Draco, would you like to see?" His father was an extremely intelligent man, though certainly weak-willed. He had a job in the Ministry, and liked to create spells in his past time. Although, sometimes his obsession tended to intrude on his work hours as he got overly enthusiastic.   
"Of course!" He draped himself on the armrest of the chair, as his father searched for his wand.   
"It's in front of you, Father." It was all he could do to keep from laughing. His father, the absent-minded twit he was had accidentally been using his wand as a quill, without noticing. He blushed.  
"Oh, thank you for pointing that out, Draco. Are you ready?" He wiped the ink off the point of the wand with his hankerchief as Draco smirked.   
He waved his wand in a complicated pattern, muttering some ancient Latin that Draco didn't quite understand.  
Suddenly it was as if the floor fell away, and they were lost in a tunnel of beautiful colours, refracting like a rainbow through crystal. The colours were everywhere, swirling around them as they kept falling, rushing and rushing and suddenly everything went black...  
  
Draco awoke in a beautiful cave, with icy stalagtites and stalagmites. His father was sitting on a flat rock nearby, watching him carefully.  
"Ah...slight error that I forgot to re-write...we fell into the lake. I dragged you out." A slight smirk was on his face as Draco took in the scenery. A lake, about half the size of the one at Hogwarts was nearby, the water sparkling, almost impossibly pure. The surrounding sand was a cool blue in the darkness of the cave, and the crystal formations glittered and sparkled.   
"Where are we?" Draco was in awe.  
"This is my mind, Draco. A physical representation." (A/N: Insert the representations as you please, LOL...stalgtites for a sharp mind, water for flexibility...I dunno.) It was then that Draco noticed the shadows around the edges, but there was too much light for them to be noticeable.   
The room had no routes out, nor any windows. The light reflecting off the formations and the surface of the lake came from a smooth cube of glass hanging in mid-air, humming and vibrating as it sent out light. Draco dared not ask what it was.  
"Are you ready to go back, Draco?" His father looked at him, almost as if he was on the point of saying something, but was held back, wasn't allowed.  
Draco looked at his father, and then his gaze returned to the lake.  
"What would happen if I drank from there, Dad?" Lucius's face took on an interesting contortion, as he tried valiantly to scan every single possibility. But, eventually he drew a blank.  
"I have no idea. And we're not about to experiment. Come Draco, let's go home." His titan-haired son straggled towards him, clothes still dripping. His father muttered something, and they were surrounded by a halo of light.   
  
They arrived back in the study just as the door banged open.  
"Draco! I have been looking for you everywhere!" Narcissa looked set to kill, and Lucius felt a slight shudder trace down his spine. His wife looked young, much younger than her age of 38. She looked around 21, 22. Her ash blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail, making the ends of her violet eyes slope back into an even eviller expression. Her lips slid back into a cruel smile.   
Lucius felt his mind wandering, back to the days when her skin was peaches and cream and her lips like soft raspberries to him. A tall man, he had never understood girls, how they could be so small and petite. Narcissa had played on his weakness so easily. She was a small woman, even Draco, now 12, was eye to eye with her. And now, she was nothing more than Voldemort's whore. He had not protested when she requested they join the ranks of the Death Eaters. And even now, when Voldemort greeted him, he had no idea how to treat Lucius. He was an enigma. And Draco was quickly filling in his father's footsteps. One day he'd subject to Narcissa's every whim and fancy. The next he'd beat her down to tears, verbally. If Lucius and the Malfoy forefather's were anything to go by, Draco would reach his growth spurt very soon. He'd be able to throw Narcissa around like a ragdoll. And God, how Lucius awaited that day.  
  
"The Lord wishes to see you Draco. I will commence your training next week, be ready." She smirked, it pained Lucius so when he saw Draco mimick his mother's expressions. He said nothing, instead gazing at the woman coldly.  
"But of course, _Mother_." He spat out. She stood there, as if waiting for something.  
"Yes? You are no longer required in my presence, woman. Go back to your room and wait for your employer, dirty whore." Lucius, who had been watching quietly, started, but fought not to show it. His insides churned. Draco understood. Draco _understood_. And he was taunting the demon-woman.   
Narcissa's eyes narrowed.   
"You will not speak like that to me, son."  
"I shall speak how I like. I carry the Malfoy name. Without that name you would be nothing, wench. You would be out in the Muggle-world, working your ass off. Or you would be prostituting yourself somewhere in Hogsmeade."  
Lucius watched, his heart leaping for joy at his son, who was verbally tearing his mother down with every passing second.  
"I will not tolerate sub-ordinance!" Narcissa shrieked, leaping for Draco. Lucius stood. Narcissa was a very strong woman, both in will and physical form, but she was no match for Lucius.  
"Defending your spawn, Lucius? So kind, especially seeing as you weren't the one to carry him for nine months." She paused to wipe spittle from the corner of her mouth delicately. Those long manicured nails, many were the night he had felt them digging into the tender tanned flesh of his shoulderblades....but no was not the time to remember things such as that. Draco was in danger.  
  
Draco strode across to his mother, a concerted effort for a 12 year old. But Draco pulled it off. He always could.   
"Leave Father out of it, Mother. Go back to your room."  
"No Draco. You go to your room." It was all Lucius could do to stop from snorting. Did they realise how childish they sounded? He spoke, and his voice sounded hoarse and ill-used.  
"Draco shall stay. Narcissa, return to our room and I will come by later." She positively seethed, and was ready to open her mouth.  
"It would do you good to remember who I am Narcissa. Who funds your childish Death Eater exploits?" Her mouth was upturned in a smirk now, she had regained self-control.  
"Childish? Hardly, you yourself carry the Dark Mark, Lucius."   
"Go to your room, woman!" He thundered.   
With one last glance at Draco, she hissed  
"You cannot hide behind your father forever, Draco." And left. Draco shuddered.   
  
Those words brought back a memory.  
  
Draco was in the greenhouse, on a detention with a Ravenclaw girl, Summer. She had shyly admitted her affections for him, and he, in return had kissed her. Then she had kissed him. And it had led to something a little more than kissing.   
"Oh Draco." She had murmured in her soft southern drawl. He pushed his fingers further inside her, and she cried out as she climaxed, her hands tangling in his hair.  
She had given him a sad glance as she left.  
"I know what you're really like Draco."   
"I never gave you the right to call me Draco." He had said softly.  
"Don't try and hide behind your father. You can't hide forever." And she had left. Funny how everybody at Hogwarts seemed to believe that it was his father that was the big bad Death Eater. Well maybe he was, but the real evil at 'home' was his scheming bitch of a mother.   
And it was funny, he always hoped in his dreams that she was his evil step-mother, and somewhere in Heaven his real mother smiled down on him, waiting for the day her little Draco would return to her. And her loving husband. And they could be a happy family once more.  
  
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Somebody knocked lightly on the door.  
"Come in." Narcissa was brooding.   
"Oh. It's you." She returned to brushing her hair.  
"I don't understand why you delight in provoking him." He sighed, flopping onto the bed. Dinner had been a sordid affair, with Draco only speaking to his father, and his mother ignoring everybody except the house-elf that brought their food, and that was just to harshly belittle it with all the power she possessed.  
"The boy needs to toughen up." She saw his reflection in the mirror, he was lying down behind her, one arm behind his head, the other trying to catch a feather drifting in the air. Her face softened. One, she had married Lucius for his money. Two, she had married him for his looks. He still retained a firm washboard stomach from the schooldays, and from teaching Draco to play Quidditch. She did like to see him happy. Not if it interfered with her own happiness though.  
  
She wasn't going about things the right way. Turning around, she slid off the chair.  
"Lucius...darling, you do know I don't like to see you unhappy." She purred. Lucius sighed. He knew what his wife was up to.   
"Yes, Narcissa?" She had that untrustworthy gleam in her eyes as she clambered ontop of him.   
"So I *lick* agree to *lick* make peace with *lick* Draco. Would that *lick, kiss* make you *nibble* happy, darling?"   
'The bitch is back at my money again.' Lucius thought as the blonde head made it's way south of his chest.   
"Very." He looked lovingly into his wife's eyes. However good an actor Narcissa was, Lucius was better.  
"Oh good...I'm so happy I can help you baby." Lucius closed his eyes as Narcissa's mouth engulfed him, trying to force the thought from his mind that she had done this to Voldemort so many times before.  
  
  
A/N: lots of spelling errors in here...will somebody help me??? 


	2. Mirror, Mirror on the Wall

THE MIRROR FRONT, part 2  
  
A mirror is a complex object. It gives us the illusion of a depth that isn't really there. Just like some people. There are millions of mirrors in the world. Some are magical. Draco Malfoy, in fact, had an illegal enchanted mirror in his very backyard. One he was looking at this very second.  
  
"Master Draco. You have not been to see me for a long, long time." Draco bit his lip.  
"I'm sorry, Legolas." The rippling reflection smirked. Draco released a sigh and sat on the edge of the lake, one of the rocks that marked it's border.  
"Trouble at school? Or perhaps, Malfoy Manor isn't as warm as you remembered it to be?" His elfin ancestor smiled kindly. He had the same blonde hair as Draco, although he wore his long. A riduclously pretty face for a man. His gaze became distracted as he moved to catch a passing dragonfly, his transparent arm breaking the surface of the lake.   
"It's my mother." Legolas's face fell.  
"Ah. That woman." Draco had been down to the very back of the garden many times before to tell Legolas his troubles. He was a confidante, an Uncle figure.  
"Draco, my friend...as I see it, there are few ways you can go. You are not truly evil yet. I do not believe you have the heart to be." The words came out slightly distorted by the ripples in the pond.  
"But I have to. I have a reputation to live up to." Draco pulled a petulant face, his lower lip set in a pout.  
"Build your own reputation. Only you have control over your own life." Legolas chided gently.  
"Maybe you're right." Draco seemed silent for a while, and the sun was beginning to set.  
"You should make your way back. It's not safe on your grounds after dark and I don't want your father to worry about you." Draco looked sadly at Legolas.  
"I wish you were here Legolas, so I could see you properly." Legolas returned the smile.  
"But I can see you, and to know my line is prospering so well, is all I need to be happy."   
"Bye Legolas." Draco touched two fingers to the water, creating a disturbance as the water flowed out. Legolas reached out two fingers, touching them to Draco's as he faded from view. Draco felt a slight shiver down his back as he stood up.  
  
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The entrance hall was dark and empty. Nobody was there to greet him. The dining room was dimly lit, and the elves had already cleaned up dinner's remains. So he retreated to his bedroom, in the East Wing. His tough combat boots clanked softly on the carpeted corridor floor, the buckles whispering as each step took him closer to his room. He opened the door, and fell to his knees screaming as something hit him. It felt like his brain was being shredded inside out, like somebody was stabbing him in the skull. Suddenly there was a squeaking and it was gone.  
"Sir! Sir! Hush...it's okay....Shhhh...shhhh..." A timid, trembling house-elf tipped something between his lips. He drank gratefully as the pain in his head subdued.   
"Thank you." It was a new house-elf, Draco couldn't recognise her. She made as if to fade, but Draco stopped her.  
"Hang on...please don't go...what was that?" The house-elf looked sad.  
"Keys cannot tell you. Draco must rest, important day tomorrow." He realised her name was Keys.   
"Please! I'm frightened, won't you stay with me?" Draco would never have admitted it, but the House-elves were under an oath of loyalty and didn't know how to tease him, so he was pretty safe.  
"Keys cannot." The scared look was replaced with a sly one.  
"But Keys knows where someone who would is."   
"Who?" He was suspicious.   
"Look in dungeons. Keys must go now, much work to be done." Draco was exasperated.  
"Fine! Go!" She sent him a last sad smile as she faded from view.  
"How to get into the Dungeons..."  
Draco was scared to go down there himself. His mother kept many things down there that kept it from being safe. She even had an illegal Dementor guarding it. Maybe being Voldemort's pet slut had it's priveledges. First he needed the keys. He tried to ask himself why he was doing this, but his sub-conscious simply replied that he wouldn't be able to sleep if he tried anyway. There was still a dull ache at the back of his mind.   
He prepared himself to cast a silencing charm on himself, but was then reminded that magic outside Hogwarts was forbidden. So he had to rely on good old-fashioned stealth instead as he snuck towards his parent's bedroom, and opened the door.   
He was thoroughly disgusted by the noises emanating from the bed. His father would always choose Draco over Narcissa, that much was clear, but Narcissa was always ready for Lucius to dip his dick in. Hell, Narcissa was ready for the entire Death Eater population. She was currently screaming hard, he noticed his father pinning her down with his body.  
"So you like it rough Narcissa?" Draco decided he definitely did not want to hear anymore of this gross commentary from Lucius, and grabbed the keys off the hook by the door and slipped out.   
From here it was simply a matter to go down to the dungeons and find whatever Keys was talking about. 


	3. Shattered Shards

(A/N)  
LMAO  
This chapter is dedicated to [reviewer] Poof. I cracked up when I read your review...  
I'd edit it out if I could, but it's already posted and i lost the editable copy...so sorry... :D  
By the way, I realised I wrote Draco's age as 12. He's meant to be 14. Sorry! :)  
  
.::THE MIRROR FRONT::.  
  
Chapter 3: Shattered shards  
  
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The dungeons were dark. He shivered as he felt his way along the dark, shadowy corridor, nearly screaming as something cold and wet dripped on the back of his neck. He hated the dark, and shadows that created it ever since that night three months ago when he had to go into the forest with damned Wonderpants Potter and his two sidekicks fudge-packing Ron and Buck-toothed Beaver. He smirked to himself in the dark. Sure the insults were immature and not the best he could come up with...but they were familiar. Almost comforting, like an old safety blanket.  
  
He winced as another tremor of pain rippled through his skull. It wasn't as bad as the first assault, tearing his mind apart, but it still hurt nonetheless.  
"Just what exactly am I looking for?" he muttered in the dark. He frozed as he heard moaning. It was a feminine voice, about his age. He could tell, she was almost squeaking, only girls around his age could reach that pitch. She squealing stopped and instead a voice began to murmur in latin.  
He listened intently. It was advanced latin, but still plain enough to be understood from someone in his year. He sneaked his way towards the source of the sound. Now she was muttering something about mirrors. His eyes widened as he realised who it was. Then they narrowed. Of course. Who else would be locked in his mother's dungeon, and still be nattering about work they received just last week? Who else was left on the train after Platform 9 3/4? Mudblood Granger, that's who.  
  
Hermione nearly screamed when the eyeflap to her hellhole opened, and a single, slate-grey eye peered in. Instead, she stifled herself by clapping a heavily shackled arm to her mouth. The door handle began to turn, and she winced. What would become of her now? The door opened, and at that instant a cold wind swept into her cell, blowing out the candles.   
A cold, mocking laugh taunted her, and she realised who it was in an instant.   
"Malfoy. I should have known." She never heard footsteps, but in a second her arms were being clenched painfully, his fingers digging into the soft flesh.  
"Well well well. My mummy must have brought me an early christmas present. A slave perhaps? Oh no, we've got enough house elfs to last us a lifetime or two." He knew that would get to her. Miss Goody-two shoes 'Must save the house-elfs!'. She winced in the dark, and felt her face getting hot.  
"I don't Granger. Whatever shall I do?" His lips grazed her ear, not touching, but close enough she could feel his warm breath on her neck. It was a welcome change from the drafty breezes that floated around the dungeons. She gasped.  
"Stop squealing like a bushpig." He slapped her. Perfect, payback for last year. She felt her face heat up in indignation even more.   
"Wow, no smart retorts coming from you Granger? Mother must have broken you down incredibly fast. You must be very weak-willed." She didn't reply.  
"You're no fun. Fife!" He called. A small glowing house-elf apparated.   
"Bring food here. Now. Something hot, with a nice tantalising aroma. I think Miss Granger might be hungry." The glow from the house-elf before it disapparated highlighted a cruel grin on Draco's face. Hermione doubted so very much the food would be for her.  
  
Draco winced as another tremor of pain ripped through him. This time it wasn't just his head, it was his whole body. His arm was burning, he had to stop it somehow.   
  
Hermione watched in shock as Draco suddenly had a seizure, falling to the floor and writhing in pain. Suddenly the shadows seemed more alive with Draco gone. Suddenly she'd prefer his mocking and torture to whatever that darkness concealed.   
"Malfoy! Malfoy get up!"  
A match ignited, and Hermione looked up in horror.  
"Chain him up next to her. I won't have a common pickpocket for a son. Especially not one that defys orders." Narcissa Malfoy's evil violet eyes glittered cruelly in the weak light. Three Death Eaters stepped forward and hitched Draco into shackles.   
"Where's your father now, Draco? Nobody to hide behind?"  
"He'll find me. Don't you worry, you just wander off and service the rest of the Death Eaters. That should keep you busy until tomorrow morning, I'm sure they all have needs."  
Draco spoke softly, his tone menacing. His head snapped back as Narcissa hit him across the face.  
"I will not tolerate sub-ordinance! Hopefully a night in the dungeons will cure you and make you realise what a life of luxury you live. Then you shall appreciate it more." Draco ignored her, instead talking to the Death Eater who was fixing his last cuff.  
"How can you screw her? Wouldn't it be like fucking a bucket?" He asked conversationally.   
Narcissa stepped forward, her face livid with anger, lit only by the lamps of Death Eaters behind her. But a thin, bony hand reached out and grabbed her shoulder.  
"Actually boy, your mothers a pleasure, especially when she's on her hands and knees."  
Draco and Hermione both looked sick to the stomach, Draco actually threw up on the hem of the nearest Death Eater's robe. There, standing in front of them, skeletal and pale was Lord Voldemort. 


	4. And We Crystallize

.::THE MIRROR FRONT::.  
  
Chapter 4: And we crystallize  
  
"Who would house this demon//The greatest of my fears//The man who would torture me and reduce me to tears//I'd stand strong for the blood of my blood//But the blood has been tainted and reduced to mud..."  
  
Oh it hurt. It hurt like somebody had driven a blade through his stomach and into his throat. No, make that a newly forged blade that hadn't quite cooled yet and the melted metal was adhering itself to his insides.  
Draco Malfoy was dimly aware of someone screaming in the background for a short period of time. He was aware of the Dark Lord in front of him, watching impassively as his mother- no, that wench Narcissa, cast the Cruciatus on him repeatedly. Gritting his teeth, Draco raised his head, letting his heavy, ice-cold murderous gaze fall on her. Slowly, he banished the pain that was blacking the edges of his vision away, until he could see clearly again. And with a little more strength, he stood up straight, impervious to Narcissa's furious screams. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Hermione's body thudding on the floor, but she kept her mouth sealed tightly. Only by looking into her eyes could he catch her distress and pain. Narcissa howled in rage and leapt forward to attack him, scratch his eyes out or just beat the crap out of him. But Lord Voldemort's hand suddenly shot out and caught her elbow.   
"No, Narcissa. The boy has learnt his lesson." He regarded Draco carefully, aware of the air that had begun to chill around the boy.  
"I shall return in two years for you, Draco. Then I expect you to join my ranks. Learn that there is no escape from the Dark Lord." And they faded into the shadows once more, leaving no indication that they were ever there, except for the scuff marks in the dust and dirt, and Hermione's battered and bruised body.  
"Oh heaven's to hell, what have they done to you, Granger?" He walked over, carefully placing an arm under the crook of her knees and another around her shoulders as he lifted her up. What had once been a sworn enemy was now a close ally, pain tended to create bonds that couldn't be forgotten.  
  
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The descent from the dungeon was painful and tedious, but Draco was impervious to the pain. He was in deep though. Two years was all he had. Oh, Narcissa wouldn't be back for those two years at least, but those were still two years, and time was ticking away. He felt himself grow colder, and only stopped himself from becoming almost like ice, at the sound of Hermione whimpering in his arms. And where was his damned father when this was happening? With a moody scowl, he flung open the door with his right arm, carefully placing Hermione's body down by the door.   
He froze at the sight, the rage building more so by the moment. A shadowy figure was crouching over the prone figure of his father, while another cloaked, feminine figure stood aside and watched. Forgetting all magic, he flung himself at the taller figure, intent on destroying Voldemort with his bare hands.  
There was a brief struggle before the taller figure yanked Draco up, holding both wrists in the one hand. Pushing Draco into a puddle of moonlight, the figures made small noises of surprise. The taller one threw off his hood, as did the smaller one a second later. The boy was the first to recover. His beautiful countenance twisting into a wicked smile, Draco gazed upon features that would be his upon adolscence. The same pale blonde hair. The same silver-grey eyes. The girl had flaming red hair, and the same colour blue eyes as Draco's father.  
"Well hello little brother."  
Draco blacked out.  
  
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	5. Ebony

.:: THE MIRROR FRONT::.  
  
Chapter 5: Ebony  
  
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Draco glanced worriedly at Hermione. The girl seemed to be plotting quietly, or fuming, or else depressed. His 'sister', Desaix, had helped the younger girl bathe and dress in new clothing, and it seemed Hermione was quite unaccustomed to wearing breeches and a tunic. They were sitting at the dinner table, only a quick meal before they re-attempted to wake his father. Hermione was pushing food around her plate, only nibbling at it, while Dreland and Desaix shovelled it down with gusto. They caught him eying them warily.  
"We're weary travellers." Dreland spoke at the same time Desaix claimed that they were 'growing kids'.  
Even Hermione gave a small smile at this. Yet, it didn't last long. He looked at her through narrowed eyes. Although his father was his main concern, Draco did still have to look after the mudblood.  
"There's a telephone in there." He made a vague gesture towards the parlour.  
"You can call your parents and tell them that you're safe, or if they want to pick you up or something." Maybe she wanted to be amongst her own kind? Muggles, or whatever. Maybe she just missed Potter.   
Dreland and Desaix gave each other a look as Draco's face suddenly broke into a snarl, then relaxed.  
"Thank you. But er...Malfoy, I have to talk to you." Her voice was a lot sharper than Draco would have expected. He expected her to speak in a trembling, little girl voice. A voice that matched how vulnerable the mudblood looked. But of course, being a Gryffindor, being put under Cruciatus probably didn't phase her. He grimaced. A reminder that a mudblood Gryffindor was in his house. Dreland and Desaix looked at Draco.  
"Er...we'll just go wake Father up now." And they disapparated away. Another thing...he'd have to examine those two later. It was a very strange circumstance he'd have to look over in the morning. Provided he woke up the next morning, anyway.  
"Yes, Granger?"  
"Malfoy, I want revenge. I'm going to offer you a deal."  
"A deal, Granger? What would I want to parley with the likes of you for?" A disdainful sneer. She gritted her teeth. She expected this.  
"You help me extract revenge. I help you not become a Death Eater." Time slowed down for Draco. He gazed coolly at her.  
"How do you know I don't want to be one?" He asked childishly.  
She lost her temper. Banging her fists on the table, she started shouting.  
"Dammit Malfoy! Don't make this more difficult! I want revenge! I don't care if I have to go through you or your family to get it!"  
"Revenge? I believe I can help you with that." Lucius's haggard, tired form leant in the doorway, supported on each side by Dreland and Desaix, both with one of his arms around their necks.   
"Mr Malfoy." Hermione was wary of this newcomer. If the rumours at school were true...  
"Please, Miss Granger, call me Lucius." She nodded once.  
"Father, what are you doing?" Draco asked sharply. His father waved Draco away absently.  
"Yes...yes... Miss Granger, how willing are you to learn Dark Arts?" Draco's breath became a sharp hiss.   
'Oh Dad, don't you know what she's doing? Don't you know what she is?'  
"I will do anything for revenge upon them."  
Draco's eyes widened. His thoughts calculated rapidly.  
Desaix hadn't told him the extent of Granger's injuries. And there had been a period where he had almost blacked out, where he couldn't see anything except through a tiny little distorted circle in front of him. And the mudblood hadn't been able to re-wear her dress. Slowly, Draco began to absorb these details. His expression turned to horror.   
"Granger...Hermione..." He looked distressed. He looked at Desaix. Her expression of stone concreted what he already knew.  
"You weren't..." He looked at her. With her mouth set in a tight line, Hermione nodded once. As tears began to fall down her cheeks, Desaix pulled a chair forward and began to comfort the younger girl.   
Draco's grip on the table edge tightened until his knuckles turned white. The air around him became ice cold. A warm hand on his shoulder and another on his arm jolted him back to reality. They stayed there until the temperature returned to relatively normal.  
"I am so sorry." he spoke softly as he stepped forward.   
"I am so, so, sorry." Looking up, Hermione's eyes followed him as he knelt beside her.  
"It wasn't your fault." She said in a trembling voice, the voice that he expected her to have.  
"Oh Granger. Gryffindors don't cry." He spoke in dismay, embracing her awkwardly as she clung to him.   
It made a picture no one would have expected. Hermione surrounded by Malfoy and kin, and embracing the dragon himself. Outside, under a starry night sky a transparent Legolas spoke to the fireflies, and a very worried Muggle household mourned.  
  
But this is not the end. 


	6. Retaliation

.::THE MIRROR FRONT::.  
  
"A mirror reflects that which stands before it. A mirror has unseemingly infinite depths.   
A mirror can show the deepest and most intricate twists and turns.   
Malfoy Manor is full of mirrors."  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTES: This chapter is a song fic...they lyrics belong copyright to Atmosphere, the song is called Love Life. Excellent song.  
__________________________________________________________________________  
  
Chapter 6: Retaliation  
  
Individually wrapped, placed in neat little rows  
Becoming a piece, of everything that grows  
Some numbers, some names to indicate you played the game  
Came empty handed and left the same  
  
Hermione stared blankly across the grass field. A graveyard. She could see Draco's pale head bobbing and weaving as he picked his way across, and the slight crunch of gravel beneath Desaix's boots as she followed close behind. Somehow, this wasn't how she'd thought a graveyard would look like at night.   
The night was clear, with stars sparkling overhead. A few well kept trees lined the path that she and Desaix were keeping too, and in the bright moonlight Draco picked his way across the grass patches, gliding between marble angels and statues.  
"It's gotta be here somewhere." He paused, hand extended as he probed the air in front of him. Desaix and Hermione stopped in their tracks, watching alertly.  
Suddenly his face lit up.  
"It's here. Come on." As they neared Draco, Hermione felt a slight pressure. The world went black for a moment as she stepped through the thin, invisible, stretchy material that Draco was holding open.  
And then she opened her eyes and forced herself not to scream.  
  
A soul is a soul, and a shell is a shell  
The border in between is full of everything you felt  
Some cling to a cross coz they're tired and lost  
They leave it up to the weather to measure the cost  
  
This was how she'd pictured it to be. The creepy gothic church was outlined by the clouded pale moon, which hung dead in the sky. Skeletons of trees were scattered, some had roots that were snaking out of the ground, breaking up gravesites and disrupting all orderliness. She nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt a hand land on her shoulder, but it was only Desaix comforting the younger girl, her face showing sympathy and understanding.  
"Don't worry, it creeped me out the first time I saw it too."  
Instead of angels, some of the tombstones had gargoyles, some were entwined in barbed wire.  
"This way."  
Hermione shivered visibly, feeling more and more miserable as they came closer to the church. Draco noticed her discomfort, and after much hesitation, gave her his jacket.  
"I'll go in first." Desaix pushed open the door to the cathedral.  
Hermione gasped, and instinctively huddled closer to Draco. He gripped her arms from behind, and she pushed into the warmth of his body.   
"Come on, Granger. If you want to help us get revenge, you have to be useful at least." He murmured into her ear, sending pleasant shivers down her spine. Giving a disgusted snort she bounded further into the cathedral, stopping only inches from Desaix.  
"Come on, it's safe. Well, as safe as they come." Taking a deep breath, Hermione stepped down onto the floor. She heard Draco's descending footsteps as he left the stairs behind her.  
Hermione bit her lower lip as she saw the skeleton sitting in the middle of the platform.  
He was dressed in a priests habit that fell to his knees, and loose, dusty trousers. A black book bound with a cross of ribbon was clutched in his left hand.  
"That's what we need." She felt Draco's hand gently pushing her towards the skeleton.  
'Come on Herm, you're a Gryffindor. You can handle this.' she thought.  
"Wait!" Desaix's voice echoed around the chamber.  
"There's wards on that skeleton. Let me go first." Again, Draco and Hermione stepped backwards to allow Desaix room to work.  
"This is going to be difficult without Dreland here." she muttered, and withdrew her slim ebon-grey wand.  
Hermione only had the chance to hear two words, before the rest became a mumbled song. Desaix was spinning gracefully, her wand trailing red sparks and shimmers as she seemed to ignite. The entire chamber became bloodlit red.  
And all of a sudden, a burst of sapphire-blue light ignited around the skeleton.  
The face began to mould, skin started stretching over the features. Hermione felt as if she was going to be sick, and Draco just wrapped his arms around her silently.  
And all of a sudden it was over. Hermione felt the arms around her snake away as Draco fell to the floor in reverence. Desaix was kneeling, head bent. Hermione was suddenly aware that all the dark power she had been feeling, all the creepy, unnerving feelings had just been concentrated into one place. One moving place. She looked up into the most beautiful face she had ever seen.  
  
And everytime I look within I recognise the darkness  
Familiar to the image of the artist  
But here I am, thinking about death again  
Humbles out the stress, helps the breath get in  
I need to check my friends, as well as my next of kin  
To let em all know, I love them all until the end  
  
Hermione stood, entranced as the skeleton, now a terrible and beautiful sight swept down the stairs. Something about his easy gait reminded her of Draco, how he would be in a couple of years. The stranger had sandy pale hair, which shimmered in the moonlight and deep wine-red eyes. The clothes had returned to their normal state, luxurious shimmering fabrics that looked like they'd be silky soft to touch.  
Hermione suddenly remembered where she was, and sank into a deep curtsey.  
  
"Arise, Desaix D'Malfoy and Draco Malfoy. Arise...one Miss Hermione Granger." The voice was terrible and compelling, yet beautiful. He sounded like a thousand harmonised voices bound into one powerful chord. Yet it was still the same cold drawl that Draco spoke with.   
"Master Daemon."  
"High Priest."  
The being, Daemon, looked at them.  
  
"Hermione Granger, I would not have expected you to be here." she kept silent, her eyes to the floor.  
"You wish to defeat Voldemort?" The voice was softened to almost a caress.  
"I wish to see Voldemort in eternal pain. I wish to see the Death Eaters incarcerated in Azkaban where they would all receive the Dementor's Kiss." She was surprised with the vehemence and fury that exploded from her words. She had expected her voice to sound rusty from disuse. She licked her dry, cracked lips with her tongue, awaiting judgement.  
Usually, this was not what one said to a priest. But Hermione suspected that Daemon was an entirely different kind of priest.  
  
He smiled, and Hermione felt the sins of the mortal world fall on her shoulders.  
"Is that a deal?"  
Draco's eyes narrowed as he sprung in front of Hermione.  
"No deal. Master." He added respectfully.  
"You know the powers you're dealing with, young Malfoy?" Daemon asked thoughtfully.  
"I do, sir."  
"And you still decided to follow through. Impressive. I will help. Only because I want so little of Voldemort left that even his ashes would not be able to reside in..." He glanced at Hermione.  
"...that place."  
  
How many times must you prove you're an angel  
How many more demons do you have to strangle  
How much longer must you remain in this dream   
Before I finally figure out if you're insane or a genius?  
  
"Very well." Daemon tapped long, tapered fingers thoughtfully against his chin, with his head tilted towards the ceiling. He looked so...divine...Hermione couldn't help but feel smug as she thought of Parvarti and Lavender. What they wouldn't give to be in her place.  
He opened the bible he was holding, tenderly sliding the marker out of place and flipping the almost transparent, glass-like pages over.  
"As you have summoned me I shall do you no injustice. Step forward, muggleborn, and recieve this timeless burden that you shall carry until your body fades into dust." Hermione definitely didn't like the sound of that, but Desaix and Draco were nudging her forward eagerly. She hesitated. What if this was some sort of trick? How did she know she could trust them? Then she looked down at the coat she was wrapped in. She remembered Draco taking her home that night, she remembered Desaix and Dreland comforting her throughout the break.   
  
And she took the step.  
  
Let no tears fall from none of y'all  
Remember the beauty as well as the flaws  
L-O-V-E L-I-F-E Here lies _____, finally free  
And as I look across the sea, I smile at the sun  
While it feed the weeds the nutrition they need  
The people still breathe, the city still bleeds  
I'ma love it to death and keep planting my seeds  
I'ma love it to death and keep an eye on my seeds  
I'll be in love till I'm dead, keep reaching the seas  
I'll give it all I got left just to teach you to read  
Love life to the death and keep planting my seeds  
  
When the light cleared, Hermione turned, stunned to look for Draco and Desaix.  
They were looking at her, shocked. "What? What is it?" She turned to look for the priest, and came face to face with herself.  
"I..." the mirror spoke.  
She screamed.  
"Hermione Granger, it's only temporary. You need to send her home, and you stay at the Malfoy Manor. Lucius and family will provide for you and teach you all they know. She's all the good in you manifested. You, at the moment, are only full of evil.  
It was true. She wanted to scratch this girl's eyes out and rip her to shreds.   
"Mama?" The girl turned wide blue eyes to her, eyes that used to be her own. Hermione felt her sanity tearing away from her.   
"I'm not your mother." She spat.  
"Technically, you are. She's from your own blood." Daemon glanced at her forearm, where a long vertical scar had formed. He cocked his head and glanced out the lightening window.  
"Daybreak is coming. I best be off...a busy day awaits me."  
"Thank you, master." Draco bowed again.  
"Many fortunes, High Priest." The beautiful being gave a twisted smile as he faded away. The skeleton slowly degenerated back to bones and rags.   
But Hermione was too busy fighting the overwhelming emotions within her.  
  
When the soul begins to reap I think she'll know me from the sleep  
I keep caught in the corner of my bloodshot eyes  
And if she has the nerve to let me dump a couple last words  
I'ma turn to the earth and scream Love Your Life  
  
Now how many times must you prove you're an angel?  
How many more demons do you have to strangle?   
How much longer must you remain in this dream  
Before I finally figure out if you're insane or a genius?  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
I woke up to a body nestled against mine. At first I stiffened when I realised who it was, but eventually I relaxed. She was a part of my life now, one I could not deny. From the moment I had recognised her in the chambers till last night, we had been bonded by that thin wire of life.  
Blood didn't matter anymore.   
It wasn't going to help Narcissa. 


	7. Sorries

[sorry]  
  
Hey everyone...just gotta say that I'm sorry but this fic probably will be on hold for a while because of those everyday things such as exams...and more exams...and, oh yea, schooL!  
  
Also I've kinda lost interest...inspire me! And maybe I'll be able to write again.  
Nah, I'm lyin...I'll probably still write...but it might be a whole lot different, be warned!  
  
- Sila*  
  
I hope y'all have a great year and holidays! :) 


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